


The Smallest Nudge

by Gatorade_blade



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst, Beef is oblivious, Crying, Etho-Centric, Gen, Get yourself a friend like Grian, Grian is a good friend, Head empty only Etho angst, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Not Beta Read, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29131503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gatorade_blade/pseuds/Gatorade_blade
Summary: When things break, they fall apart and tumble into thousands of small pieces.When Etho breaks, it's no different.-Or, Etho finally cries after years of pent up emotions
Relationships: Etho & Grian, Etho/Daniel M. | VintageBeef, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 85





	The Smallest Nudge

When things break, they fall apart and tumble into thousands of small pieces. The fall is significant and loud, and as they crumble into useless shards of what they used to be, people look in awe. They sympathize with the broken item, ‘What a shame it broke, it was so lovely too’ they say. 

When most things break it is by a crashing impact; and when that impact meets the poor item, the item has no choice but to be left broken and useless. The item gets no say in what fate decides for it. 

However, there are some moments, where incremental movements are the final push to breaking an item. It seems so harmless and light at first, that is until the said item is reduced to a pile on the floor. And then you are left to wonder just how much power that tiny tap held. Because big strong sculptures couldn't possibly be taken down by something as simple as a nudge. It had to have taken years and years of built up momentum, of constant edging, before it came to the breaking point.

Time and time again, pressure pushing down on porcelain, there is a build up that foresees the inevitable break of beauty. 

In this case, that beauty is a certain white haired redstoner. 

Etho isn’t a sensitive person. He allows words and actions to roll off of his shoulders. He lets the world be, as long as he is able to carry on at his own pace and do as he pleases. He never shows a single line of displeasement. Never cracks a frown for more than a moment. _ Never cries _ . It’s who he was. 

Etho was a calm and mysterious person. He plays harmless pranks on his friends and builds odd bases that make everyone wonder ‘how’ and ‘why’. If you were in search of someone sensitive and emotionally driven, Etho would probably be the furthest from that. 

  
  
  


And when Grian visits Etho’s mind-boggle of a base, he isn’t expecting Beef to be there. The blonde is silent as he lands -Etho had invited him over the night before just to hang out since Grian needed a break from his mansion’s interiors- and walks without a single noise to follow. He’s standing behind a pillar right outside of the garden room and he can see Beef smiling at Etho. 

Grian absent mindedly smiles at the gesture, because where he is standing he can only see Etho’s back and the light radiating off of Beef’s wide grin. But as he shifts just the slightest bit closer he can just barely make out Etho’s voice.

It lacks the usual texture and light hearted tone which Etho usually carries. It sounds detached and almost robotic, automated even, and it brings a crease to Grian’s face as his mouth turns into a soft frown. It was Etho’s voice speaking, but it didn’t sound like him. Grian doesn’t think that he has ever heard the caller's voice like that. Granted, he hasn’t known Etho for nearly as long as the other hermits may have, but he can at least say that in their short time together, he has gotten to know him a good bit, or at least enough to know when something was off. 

But he stays hidden and continues to eavesdrop on the two long-time friends, despite the feeling in his gut which tells him that he should probably go. 

“I really can’t thank you enough, E. You’re the best.” Beef chimes, his voice is light and overflowing in a bubbling cheer that Grian can’t quite understand, seeing as Etho’s is quite the opposite. 

“Don’t sweat it, Beefers. Just- have fun. He’s probably waiting for you, you should get going.” There’s sincerity in his words, but the white haired Canadian’s voice is so flat and forced that he might as well be wired with redstone. And Grian can’t seem to wrap his head around how oblivious Beef is being to the way Etho is acting right now. 

Silver eyes watch the way the brunette pulls the redstoner into a hug, watches the way the younger slowly returns the hug with so much hesitance that it makes Grian’s stomach churn in worry, watches the way Beef pulls away and holds Etho firmly by his shoulders and smiles one last time with a lovesick innocence before letting go and taking a step back. 

Grian tries not to see the way Etho’s hands linger in the position of where they had been holding Beef back. He tries not to see the way thin pale fingers curl around nothing and tuck themselves into the pocket of his green vest. He tries not to see the way Etho has to roll his shoulders back even though they stay tense in an uncomfortably painful way. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll go to Wels’ now, thanks again E. You’re amazing.” And with that Beef opens up his elytra and rockets into the air, flying off to wherever Wels’ base is. 

But Etho stays standing there, eyes still fixed on where Beef had stood just moments ago. His shoulders are still tense and his breathing sounds staggered as Grian slowly starts to approach him. 

“Etho?” The blonde starts softly, his brows are furrowed in a mix of concern and confusion and he keeps his distance as Etho flinches to the sound of his voice. 

Etho turns around, all too hesitant and on edge to be normal, “Grian! I’m sorry, I forgot you were coming over.” His voice is a bit shaky and his eyes are dull in comparison to what usual glimmer of silver and crimson they would hold. 

“Forget about me- Etho, are you okay?” Grian’s voice is flooding with so much emotion and concern as he takes another step forward. He sounds so much more worried than he would like to let out, but he can’t help it. He’s never seen Etho like this. 

And when he sees Etho’s jaw lower as he readies himself to speak again, he isn’t expecting what happens next. Not in a million years. 

Etho’s face flushes a deep red and his eyes swell with tears, he heaves in a breath that’s so heavy and broken that his shoulders quake in rigid movements that tighten into a stressed curve. He shakes his head ‘no’ to the question, and feels so frail and small that he’s afraid to speak. Because he’s trying to hold back the tears that are running down his pale skin and soaking into his face mask, and he’s trying to bundle everything up and hide it behind a cool and calm facade that never shows a trace of sadness. And yet he can’t help it when he collapses onto the floor and wraps himself in his arms, holding himself so tight that the burning shame of letting Grian see him like this turns numb.

The sight of the taller man on the floor, desperately trying to hold back the undeniable sobs that are working to break through, tears Grian apart and he wastes no time moving from his shocked state to bend down in front of Etho’s frail figure. 

“Hey, it’s okay to cry. I won’t tell anyone.” The brit’s voice is soft and he pats Etho’s head in a reassuring way that only makes it harder for Etho to hold back the tears. And so he doesn’t. He cries, broken and messily, choking on pitiful sobs, and yet still quiet as he mumbles soft apologies to the builder. But Grian simply hugs him gently, patting his head and reassuring him, just the same as he knows some of his friends have had to do to him. 

When the crying finally dies down, Grian pulls away slowly, “Breathe with me?” He offers with a small smile, and Etho nods as they start to slowly sync their breathing into a much slower pattern. Once his breathing is regulated Grian’s rubbing small circles into his back, “Can I ask what happened? You don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable.” 

There’s a moment of silence, of Etho squeezing his eyes shut and pulling his mask down to get a ragged breath of fresh air. His hands are shaking and they fiddle with the zipper on his vest until he exhales long and heavy, “Beef’s going over to Wels’.” The robotic tone is gone, but replaced by words so full that they flood and spill over with a heartbreak that pains Grian just by hearing it. 

The blonde doesn’t know the context of the situation. He doesn’t know the depth of why Beef going over to Wels’ place is so important to Etho. He doesn’t know how a nudge so simple could shatter Etho in the way it just did. But he stays seated with Etho, rubbing soothing shapes into the taller’s back and whispering reassuring words until Etho is able to finally stand on his feet again. 

It takes another fifteen minutes, but Grian doesn’t mind. He knows how it gets. Etho’s face is still red, eyes puffy and cheeks tear stained. He doesn’t quite look like himself, but like a vulnerable and younger version of someone who had been hiding for far too long. 

“I’m sorry about that Grian-” 

“It’s perfectly fine. No worries, it happens. Do you wanna talk about it?” His voice is patient, he’s not forcing Etho to open up or come clean about anything. And when Etho shakes his head no and stuffs his still trembling hands into his pockets, Grian nods with a satisfied bounce, “Okay then.” The blonde stands, smiling in a welcoming way as he turns on his heel, “You said you wanted to show me your new minigame, right?” 

It takes Etho a brief moment to register the words, but he’s quick to wipe his face one last time and follow after the short, “Y-yeah.”

  
  
  


Later that night, Etho thanks Grian for being there for him, and Grian pats his head one last time as he reassures that he’s always going to be there for the other and that he won’t tell anyone else about what happened. The pain in the Canadian’s chest settles just the slightest bit, and he waves off the shorter male with a small gesture and simple smile hiding behind his mask. Now alone in the jungle breeze of his base, he allows his hand to wander over his heart. He feels it’s rhythmic beating, the syncopated ‘ba-dumps’ ringing in his head and his smile turns sad. 

  
  


_ It still hurt. So badly.  _

  
  
  


What a shame he allowed himself to break from the smallest nudge. 

**Author's Note:**

> Not me projecting on Etho... again... Anyways I hope you enjoyed that (or didn't because ouch angst go brrr) I wanted to write something that touched base on Etho and Grian's friendship, but didnt know how to start so of course I go and make myself sad :)) And expect more Etho angst in the future because I already have more in the works


End file.
